


Bad Habits

by lazorjam



Series: The Milex Anthology [3]
Category: Last Shadow Puppets
Genre: (but not much), Alex is a tease, Blood and Gore, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Miles is confused, Smoking, it’s really not that bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-29
Updated: 2018-07-29
Packaged: 2019-06-18 10:26:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,215
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15483705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lazorjam/pseuds/lazorjam
Summary: Of course Miles never MEANT to kill him. He’s not that kind of person.(Aka Miles accidentally kills a man in the woods and Alex is there to look after him)





	Bad Habits

It was, obviously, an accident. Miles had never meant to push the man so hard he fell and hit his head; he would have never intended on hearing the crack of skull against stone and never in a million years would he have wanted to watch the light go out in someone’s eyes. It was self defence; had this man not tried to grab him and fulfil whatever grim desires filled his now blank mind, he wouldn’t have been laying on the forest floor in a pool of his own blood and Miles wouldn’t have been on the verge of a panic attack.

He knew he could have just walked away, turned around and ran until his lungs were going to give out, but he remained frozen in time, staring at his hands and then at the elderly man staring back at him with shock painted across his cold face. Miles’ knees soon gave way and he crumpled to the floor, breathing becoming more difficult as he felt his eyes prickle with tears. If only he had his inhaler on him.

The silence of the dark forest around him was broken by someone shouting, pounding footsteps growing closer and closer. Miles knew that was it and he would be locked up for the rest of his life; he was only 26, he had his entire life ahead of him. He hid his face in his knees and felt his entire body tense up when something soft brushed against his side. He cracked his eyes open slightly and his eyes fell on the Labrador that was now circling him, tail flapping excitedly as he barked and licked Miles’ bare arm.

“Dash what ‘ave I told you about- oh shit. Oh holy shit.” Miles’ eyes fell on the man stood a few meters behind him, eyes wide in shock as the Labrador, Dash, padded back to his owner. “What the… ah… Jesus are you alright?” Miles could do nothing but nod, paralysed by fear as the stranger slowly stepped closer and looked between the body and the scouser. “What ‘appened ‘ere then?” He asked and Miles opened his mouth to speak, only to find no words came out. He ran his trembling fingers through his cropped hair and swallowed, trying to compose himself.

“He grabbed me and went ta push me to the floor but a kicked him in the groin an’ shoved ‘im an’ he fell an’ smashed his head in.” Miles stuttered as he rubbed his bicep, fingertip shaped bruises already starting to form. “I never meant t’ hurt him, I ain’t that sorta bloke.” The stranger knelt beside Miles and gently rubbed his back. He had the most gorgeous eyes; endless dark rings of smoked leather that glittered gold and amber in the moonlight. His face was angular, stubble across his chin and sharp cheeks leading to a head of messy and well gelled hair that limply fell across his forehead. He looked like he could have stepped straight out of Grease, and Miles would have been lying if he said he didn’t find him attractive.

“Alright, well… I live in the shack just off the track. How about you come to mine for a cuppa and we give the coppers a bell and tell ‘em what’s ‘appened.” He said slowly and Miles knew that was the right thing to do in reality, to face the consequences of his actions. Miles nodded and the stranger helped him to stand, then grabbing his dog by the collar and leading the two away from the body. “What were you doin’ walkin’ through ‘ere in the dead of night anyway?” He asked, clipping Dash’s lead onto him and then looking to Miles.

“Comin’ back from a work thing, it’s forty minutes quicker for me to nip through ‘ere than it is for me to walk home round the ‘ouses.” He explained, though his mind was still firmly on the image of the body that he knew would be burnt into his mind for the rest of time. “I’m Miles, by the way.” He looked to the stranger who smiled at him.

“Alex.” Silence fell once again as Alex guided the way back to his house through the maze of trees. It wasn’t far and Miles was glad, not quite knowing what the next stages would be. Having never murdered anyone before, Miles was anxious as to how long it would take for him to be sent down. He knew it wouldn’t be overnight, but he did wonder if he’d ever actually go home again. “You alright?” Miles looked at Alex and nodded, clearing his throat as they went inside the little cottage, straight into the kitchen where Alex hung up his leather jacket and went to fill up the battered kettle. “‘Ere, how about I make you a cuppa and run you a bath. I need to go up to the top of the road to meet the coppers which’ll be a little walk. Plus you need to try and calm down, relax a bit.” Alex said as he let Dash off his lead and he immediately curled up in his bed by the door.

“Alright, okay. Yeah that sounds good.” Miles said softly as he sat down at the dining table and ran his hands over his face, still shaking a little as he did, chewing on the inside of his lip anxiously. “Can I ask you something, Alex?” Miles asked, not looking at the other man as he tinkered about getting a mug down from the cabinet. “Why are you choosin’ to believe me? To be an accessory to murder?” Alex laughed at that, filling the kettle with water and putting it on the stove to warm. Miles wondered if the cottage had electricity, unable to notice any lights or digital items in the room around him. He thought it was a little strange, but knew everyone had different tastes.

“Because you didn’t run.” He said simply, placing a tea bag into the mug. “And your face is too kind for you to deliberately kill anyone.” He added, and then sat down opposite Miles. “Me da was a copper, told me all about the psychos who would wait in the woods and try to attack vulnerable people, get their wallets or their phones an’ whatnot. They’re scummy people and I’ve had my fair share of run ins with them whilst growin’ up round these parts; you did us a favour if anythin’.” Alex said, Miles slowly placing his hands on the table and looking at Alex who continued to run his fingers through the well gelled strands of hair hanging limp over his forehead. “Anyway, I’ll go run you a bath and find you some clean clothes to wear, you’ve got mud all over your jeans.” He said, standing and heading through the doorway and into the bathroom.

Miles milled everything over, looking around the kitchen and chewing on his lips as he scratched at the back of his head anxiously listening to the kettle as it whistled to let him know the water was boiled. Alex reappeared and picked it up off of the hob, pouring water into the mug and then placing it on the table, fetching the bottle of milk from the counter and a pot of sugar, placing it down in front of Miles.

“I’ll be back in a while, I’ll use me mobile to phone the old bill and go wait for em. The home phone is just inside the living room.” He said, grabbing his coat from the hanger by the door and wrapping his scarf around his neck. “Bathroom’s just along the hall, I’ve put some joggers and a t-shirt out for ya.” He said, slipping on the pair of leather gloves on the side table. “There’s food in the cupboards if you need any too.” He said before opening the door and leaving after giving Miles a smile. The door shut with a soft thump and Miles sat staring at it for a while, sipping his tea after dumping two lumps of sugar and some milk in. He was amazed Alex had been quite so nice to him, but from what he had been saying Miles gathered Alex had had some sort of colourful past with the freaks in the woods and that that had some sort of impact on the way Alex was speaking to him.

Miles drank his tea and then headed into the bathroom, stripping off and then getting into the old tin tub, sinking into the hot water and groaning in pleasure at the warmth that engulfed him. Candles and a large oil lamp lit up the room, flames flickering about in the soft draft as Miles massaged the aching spot on his arm, where bruised dimples had formed on his freckled skin. He shut his eyes and relaxed, allowing the sounds of the birds outside and the warmth of the water around him to lull him into a shallow sleep.

He woke up with a startle half an hour later, checking his watch and then getting out of the warm water and into the clothes Alex had left for him, noticing his dirty clothes had disappeared and had been replaced by a warm towel. He dried off and then changed into the t-shirt and joggers that had been left for him, then going through to the living room where Alex was sat on the sofa with Dash curled up at his side. Alex offered him a smile and gestured to the other sofa. He had changed into a thick cream sweater and jogging bottoms, face glowing orange from the flames of the fire that was crackling happily. He’d not seen a proper log fire since he went on holiday to the New Forest with his parents as a child, but it seemed to fit in perfectly with the genuine vintage feel of the cottage, thatched roof and all.

“There’s been a big pile up on the M1 so all their officers are there.” Alex said as Miles perched on the knackered suede sofa. “You could always go down the station tomorrow, they’ve got a note of me call so…” Miles swallowed and nodded as he watched Alex get a cigarette from the box on the coffee table, lighting it and then offering the box to Miles who nodded and took a cigarette, lighting the end and having a long drag as he stared at the fire.

“Cheers, Alex. For putting me up like this.” Whilst surprised the police didn’t think it was a major deal that Miles had just murdered someone, he was a little suspicious of what Alex had told them on the phone. He had a puff of his cigarette and leant back, running a hand over his face as Alex watched him with an air of curiosity on his face.

“Did you want to go to bed? I’m guessing you’ve not had any sleep since yesterday.” He asked, then having a drag and blowing smoke up into the air in a neat cloud. “You may as well stay here till daylight. I’ve got me bike so could drive you home if you wanted but…” Miles looked at him and raised an eyebrow as he had a drag of the cigarette.

“But you appreciate the company?” Miles suggested and Alex shrugged, tapping ash into the dish on the table.

“Not often I come across vulnerable, handsome strangers you know.” A smile danced on Alex’s lips as he spoke and Miles swore to himself that the sudden flush in his cheeks was caused by the roaring fire rather than Alex’s comment.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” He replied, cigarette between his lips as he looked around the living room, to the piano under the window to the bookshelves that lined the wall behind him, each containing endless shelves of poetry and tattered romance novels. Miles stood and approached the bookshelf closest to the wall and ran his fingertip across the broken spines of the Penguin classics. “Wha’s your favourite?” Miles asked as he pulled out a copy of Middlemarch and flicked through it, looking up when he felt Alex press close to him and reach for a copy of Brideshead Revisited that sat in Miles’ eyeline.

“Something terribly romantic about Venice anyway.” He mumbled, chin upon Miles’ shoulder as he reached to fetch another book from the top shelf, this time pressing himself against Miles as much as he could, making the scouser’s breath catch in the back of his throat. Giovanni’s Room was then placed Miles’ hands and he looked at the olive cover. “And divine Paris… Have you been?” Miles shook his head, eyes shutting at the feeling of Alex’s breath on his neck and the shell of his ear. He smelt of smoke and citrus, the scent so toxic Miles found it hard to keep his knees from buckling.

“D’ you only read books with gays in?” Miles asked, earning a laugh from Alex who took a few steps back and finished his cigarette, the oil lamp hung to the wall marbling sepia light over his young face. Miles looked at him, finishing his cigarette and then looking back to the books in his hand.

“It’s nice to have at least one character you can identify parts of yourself in. I’s either that or reading books set in Sheffield.” He said with a shrug, running a hand through his hair. Miles smiled at that, placing his cigarette butt in the ashtray and then turning to look at Alex who lingered in the amber light. He wondered what the other man was thinking, if he was as attracted to Miles as Miles was to him, if he was as curious about his life or his habits and hobbies as Miles was. “Are you feeling more relaxed now?” Alex asked, Miles offering him a nod in reply as he ran his fingers over the top of the sofa.

“The bath helped, thanks for that.” He watched Alex place his cigarette butt in the ashtray and then stand opposite Miles, too close for what may have been seen as comfort. Alex placed his hand on top of Miles’ who instinctively linked their fingers. Alex was, momentarily, surprised but just grinned and stepped closer, slinging an arm around Miles’ shoulders lazily.

“Things will be alright, Miles.” Alex said softly, pressing a kiss to his cheek and resting his temple against Miles’ temple, Miles listening to the soft whistle of his breathing, an arm wrapping around Alex’s waist as they embraced. Alex then pulled away, hand caressing Miles’ soft cheek as he looked at him with his warm eyes. “You need some sleep, more than just a nap in the bath.” Miles smiled at that and nodded as Alex led him towards the bedroom, the pile of blankets and pillows looking more than inviting. Miles all but collapsed onto the bed as Alex stood at the baseboard watching as the scouser rolled about atop the sheets and fell asleep before he could get under the quilt.

Miles laughed when he woke up, sprawled across his double bed staring at his ancient signed David Bowie poster that sat on the wall opposite him. He ran his fingers through his short hair and then slipped out of bed. Of course it had all been a dream; he’d clearly been so pissed when he got home that he had a somewhat vivid dream and had initially struggled to distinguish between reality and his dream world.

He messed about in the bathroom, having a shave and a shower, and headed downstairs to his kitchen, pouring himself a cup of coffee and sitting in front of his computer by the patio doors, frost making his small garden glisten in the dark light. He replied to some emails from University friends, had a browse of the AllSaints sale and then clicked onto Facebook, scrolling through his timeline and sipping his coffee, chuckling at videos of dogs falling over in the snow and tapping replies to a few statuses. However he paused when a post from one of the groups he was in pinged up.

_My dad left home at about 11 last night and hasn’t returned. As it was so cold we were wondering if anyone had seen him at all? Please let me know. His name’s Paul xxx_

He almost spilt coffee over himself at the sight of the picture, familiar green eyes bright and alert and his mousy white hair clean and neatly combed. There was no blood matting his hair, no blank stare to his face. Miles thought he was going to be sick, standing and bending over the kitchen bin, hands clutching onto the counter as he felt the colour drain from his face. He fell back onto the tiles, wiping his mouth and looking at his shaking hands. Whilst in utter shock he was also dreadfully confused. He remembered falling asleep in Alex’s cabin, Alex having said he wouldn’t be able to get Miles home as he only had a motorbike.

Miles stood, downing the rest of his coffee to take the horrid taste from his mouth, and then went to get changed out of his towelling robe. He put on a jumper and trousers, mind not caring if what he was wearing looked decent, instead far too focused on the Facebook post.

After lacing his walking boots up and putting on a waterproof he left the house and began to walk towards the forest, head bowed and eyes on the tips of his boots as he allowed his feet to move at a clumsily fast rate. He was soon in the edge of the forest and followed the muddy track that would take him into the dark woodland and, hopefully, to Alex’s cottage.

He was walking for almost half an hour before he noticed the small cabin, almost stumbling as he raced towards it, thumping at the wooden front door and staring at Alex when he swung the door open, pencil behind his ear and disgruntled frown on his face.

“What d’ you need?” He asked, folding his arms across his jumper clad chest, a soft grey cashmere jumper hugging his toned chest and muscular biceps. It skirted his bare thighs, his skinny legs on display and cable knit socks covering his feet. Miles faltered for a moment, mind flickering with memories of how well they had gelled the night before, how much he had wanted to kiss Alex when he was pressed against the sofa with his blood heading south.

“What the ‘ell ‘appened last night?” Miles asked, pushing past him and heading into the kitchen. Alex shut the door and leant against it, watching Miles as he paced around the kitchen table.

“What y’ mean?” Asked Alex as he perched on the counter and picked up the mug of coffee beside him.

“I went t’ sleep ‘ere and woke up at home. How did a get ‘ome?” He asked, pausing to look at Alex. His jumper had ridden up and his black boxers were beginning to show, soft cotton hugging muscular thighs. “I thought I’d dreamt it, what a did.” Miles stuttered as he began to pace once more. “I fell asleep here and woke up at home.” He repeated as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“You woke up at seven, I drove y’ home. Y’ musta fallen asleep when you got back.” Alex answered with a dismissive shrug, sipping his coffee. “I left me number on ya dining table, you shouda  called. I don’t appreciate visitors.” Alex added, swinging his legs slightly.

“I din’t see it.” Miles said as he stopped once again and scratched the back of his neck. “The man’s family are lookin’ for ‘im.” He said and sighed slowly, coming to a stop, holding his head in his hands.

“No witnesses, no allegations, no charges.” Alex said, then downing the last of his coffee. Miles looked at him aghast. “He was gunna hurt you, you pushed him in self defence. You confess you go down for ten years. You move on.” Alex hopped down from the counter and placed his mug in the sink. He turned to face Miles as he began to speak.

“I’ve killed someone, Alex. You really expect me to just get over it?” He asked, face creased into a frown as he approached the shorter man. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself!”

“Would you rather live knowing you’ve saved countless other people from being mentally scarred, or waste away in prison for the rest of your life knowing that if you’d just listened to me you’d be living as a free man. What would you really rather, Miles?” Alex asked, prodding a long, bony finger into his chest with every other word. Miles knew Alex had some sort of reasoning behind being glad the man was dead, a forgotten line about his childhood and his father suddenly springing to mind. His brows furrowed and he memory and he tilted his head, earning a frown from Alex,

“Who hurt ya, Alex?” Miles’ voice was suddenly feather soft, catching Alex by surprise. “Last night y’ mentioned somethin’ about ya childhood,” Alex blinked, jaw locking and adams apple bobbing. “That’s why you don’t care, isn’t it? Someone hurt ya, badly.” The other turned his head away and shut his eyes. “Is that it, Alex?” He whispered as he watched Alex turn to look at him again, scowling.

“Shut the fuck up, yeah?” He hissed and Miles raised his eyebrows in surprise, a smirk playing on his lips. “Y’ don’t know shit about me.” He whispered, then gripping Miles by the front of his jumper. Miles was surprised by Alex’s reaction but was also more and more intrigued by the man by the second. His anxiety had left him and a smug arousal was swiftly filling its place.

“Maybe I wanna know shit about you.” Miles said softly, Alex’s eyes going wide before he squinted and pushed Miles against the counter. His tongue darted across his bottom lip as he stared at Miles, the scouser not knowing what would happen next. “And you wouldn’t care so much about me if you didn’t want to know shit about me too.” He whispered and Alex bit his bottom lip roughly.

“You make far too many assumptions about me, Miles.” Alex whispered as he ran his thumb over the other’s pale cheek and then took a step back, going over to the door and opening it. “I gave you a choice, you make the right decision, or you make the wrong decision. It’s up to you.” He said and Miles looked at him, cheeks flushing slightly. Once again, Alex had left him high and dry. He approached the door and stood nose to nose with Alex.

“You’re an enigma.” He said before he left and the door was slammed shut behind him. Rain had begun to fall, so he pulled his hood up and followed the path he had walked along just ten minutes prior, hands in his pockets and mind conflicted. He returned home, decision made.

...

_“A body has been found in the search for missing businessman Paul Weller._

_The body was discovered in Ecclesall Woods, Sheffield just after nine yesterday morning after a six month search for the 60-year-old grandfather who disappeared in January. South Yorkshire Police are appealing for information and can be contacted on 0-”_

Miles turned the radio off. The newspaper on the table in front of him told him all he needed to know. The burnt, naked remains of the man he had killed six months before had been found in a shallow grave meters away from where the accident had happened. He was glad there was no photo of the corpse, but the image of the man grinning with his granddaughter in his lap that was spread across the front page of the Sheffield Herald made him feel a little sick.

“That’s why it took them so long to find him.” Miles muttered as his eyes skimmed the pages and he looked across the garden and to where Alex was fiddling with the fencing, sanding down the panels ready for their new lick of paint. Alex turned when he heard the radio cut out and ran a hand through his hair to get it out of his face, dark eyes hidden by yellow tinted sunglasses. He approached the garden table and sunk into the seat opposite Miles, sipping his glass of water. Miles gave him a knowing look and Alex just sat back in the chair. “You’re a psychopath.”

“If you say so babe.” Alex said with a smile and a wink, then turning the radio back on and nicking Miles’ final slice of toast. “But then, I’ve never murdered anyone…” He added between bites, making Miles roll his eyes and snatch the remainder of the slice of toast from Alex’s fingers.

“Dickhead.” He grumbled and Alex downed his water and grinned back at the scouser.

“It’s why you love me, baby.” He said as he stood and went back to sanding down the fence, humming along to the song on the radio.

_Bad habits, ooh. Bad habits, yeah._


End file.
